


To The Mountains

by Yatzuaka



Series: Darcy Lewis Can't Win - or - Adventures in Vacationing with Literal Aliens [1]
Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: F/M, JARVIS: Sexual Healing Edition, Jane and Thor spend most of their time off screen - banging it out, Smut, Snow, Thanksgiving, The swears
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-25
Updated: 2017-12-15
Packaged: 2019-01-26 14:37:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,631
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12559596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yatzuaka/pseuds/Yatzuaka
Summary: Darcy had expected to spend Thanksgiving with her family, like she did every year, but circumstances worked against her, and she finds herself agreeing to spend her precious vacation time with her boss/best friend, Jane Foster and her boyfriend, Thor. What they forgot to tell her is that mega-jerk Loki will be joining them.Perfect, just perfect.





	1. better put some wool on

**Author's Note:**

> Soooo, this one. Huh. I've been working on it off and on for a few years. Mostly off, but I dusted it off again this year, and it's actually mostly done. Promise. The other chapters will be up soon. Ish. Basically, it's either post it now, or next year situation. Seasonality is a motherfucker.
> 
> It was inspired by listening to [this](https://youtu.be/1gMOyG9TlwU) song, the contents of which are. So. Very. Norwegian. Winter. (It's an experience I only miss in the most abstract sense. Snow is highly overrated. That's right. I said it.)  
> (side note: Have I written a songfic? JFC, won't someone stop me?)
> 
> Thanks to [Whyndancer](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Whyndancer/pseuds/Whyndancer), who held my hand at many points and poked me enough that I didn't just scrap heap it.
> 
> Hope everyone had good Thanksgiving  
> :)

The first time Jane asked Darcy to come along on her vacation - what Darcy had dubbed her sexcation - she responded with an emphatic _Oh, hell no._  Because _really-truly-honestly_  the list of things she'd rather do than play third wheel on a romantic getaway was so long it included doing laundry. Also, her parents threw an awesome Thanksgiving dinner every year, practically an Extravaganza, and there was no way she was going to miss her mom's excellent gravy, or the heavenly mashed potatoes.

 _Hard pass, Jane, but thanks anyway_.

The second time Jane asked, Darcy said no again. Her parents Thanksgiving Extravaganza might have been cancelled in favor of them going on a Caribbean cruise for two, and, _yes_ , it was so weird, so out of the norm for her parents to break from tradition, Darcy may have freaked out a little.

So, yeah, even moping around her small apartment alone sounded more appealing than hanging out with a couple of grownups who reverted to horny teenagers in each other's presence.

 _I'd rather stick my head in a toilet and flush, but, you know, I appreciate the offer,_  was the exact response. 

The third time Jane asked, Darcy had just been told that her apartment was covered in black mold and possibly insulated with asbestos and staying there could likely be fatal. In light of that revelation, and the fact that she'd be starting a new job soon, she said _Sure, Jane, I’d be delighted to go and spend your Bangsgiving sexcation with you and your overly muscular beau. That doesn’t sound like hell on earth at all._

It was only when they were driving down a deserted road after being dropped off at an empty airstrip, by a too-small prop plane, that she realized the depth of her folly. Breaking into her parents house and squatting there until they got home had obviously been the better option. Still, she continued, undeterred, and settled in the small rental car for the final leg of their journey.

Their destination put the butt-fuck in BFE. By Darcy's estimate, they were two hours outside of the middle of nowhere, literally. There was no house in sight, just a clearing in the middle of a forest at the end of a bumpy, unpaved road. Jane _Eureka_!’d, and pulled the car up to a No Trespassing sign next what appeared to be a break in the trees.

As soon as the headlights washed over the surrounding area, Darcy realized that she was looking at a path even their miniscule Prius couldn’t get through. She glared at Jane.

“It's supposed to be remote! And maybe I didn’t tell you this, but it's only a couple of hundred yards through there,” and she pointed to the shadowy path, like it was no big deal.

Darcy raised an eyebrow and Jane deflated in the drivers seat, "And, yes, we’re walking through the same woods as those candy eating little brats, Hansel and Gretel. What do you want me to say?" She blinked her big doe eyes at Darcy, “Look, I owe you one alright, but really? It's one of Tony's places. If nothing else there's bound to be a wicked hot tub.”

With the heaviest of sighs, Darcy got out of the toasty-warm car, and promptly swore at the full body punch of the cold. She ducked back inside and grabbed her coat.

A soul deep longing for the dirty and indifferent embrace of a city -  _any city! -_  overtook Darcy as she took in their surroundings.

Why, oh why had she agreed to this madness? Why couldn't she be home? But no, she was here, where cell reception was but a fond and distant memory. Darcy supposed there was a certain majesty in what she had seen of these mountains, but being so far away from civilization made her twitchy. What if she needed urgent medical attention or they ran out of booze?

 _What then, Jane? What then?_ [Sad face]

Jane snorted, “Tony Stark’s place, remember? Pretty sure he’s always got a stockpile of both liquor and medical supplies. Either way, this is the spot. The directions Pepper gave me are perfectly clear. It’s through there.” Jane pointed, and Darcy’s heart sank. She’d really been hoping this whole thing was an elaborate hoax to get her back for, well, any number of things, really.

Apparently not, though, which was infinitely worse.

When she unloaded her weekend bag from the back, she also grabbed as many of the bags of groceries as she could carry, since there was no fucking way she was making the trip twice. She could pack mule with the best of them. Stumbling up the - and she was just guessing here - deliberately spooky path, she warily regarded the wall of trees around them. The forest was so dense and moody it _had_ to have been planned that way by super talented landscape engineers. 

Darcy was about to go off on Jane, and her ridiculous directions, because there was no way Pepper Potts, a motherfucking captain of industry, of all people put up with this nonsense. She probably got dropped in by chopper, or, _ooh_ , Iron Man. Darcy reconsidered at the last moment, seeing that Jane looked just as miserable as she did, just barely holding back her tsunami of sarcasm and snark.

If she'd had the breath for it, Darcy would have cursed Tony Stark. After schlepping the metric fuck-ton of crap over the hill, through the freaking woods, finding that the front door was painted a cheerful red and situated at the top of a wide and sadistically long set of stairs was enraging. Not that Tony Stark's Tonka Logs / Lego mashup dream home up close and personal wasn't an Experience, because it truly was, but... _Come on, man. Really?_

Huffing and puffing up all those stairs to the front door, Darcy waited impatiently for Jane to find the key in her horror show of a purse. Finally, unable to summon up another microscopic particle of patience, she snatched the purse out of her boss's hand and dumped the contents out on the oversized porch.

Jane was understandably pissed, but she was likewise exhausted by their exertions and could do fuck-all about it.  So Darcy mumbled something like an apology and knelt down, spreading out the junk and picked through it until she found the identifiably complicated key. Why stick with a good, old-fashioned Schlage when you could manufacture something needlessly fancy?

The joints in her legs creaked and popped as she got up to unlock the door, but she was grateful she'd managed it at all. After snapping open the lock, Darcy got back down on her knees and helped Jane scoop all of her shit up off the frosty hardwood and into a plastic bag that Jane had produced from one of the multitude of pockets that decorated her absurdly fluffy parka. Then they grabbed the rest of their abandoned bags and entered what Stark had assured Jane was his most remote and rustic retreat.

Rustic, apparently, meant something very different to a man like Tony than it did for someone whose net worth hadn't been in the billions since conception. The ‘cabin’ looked big from the outside, but that was nothing compared to the inside. Blond wood floors gleamed under colorful and plush throw rugs, enormous macro photos hung like jewels on the creamy white of the soaring walls. She saw what was obviously the living room, and a view out of a three story wall of windows that took even her city slicker breath away.

“Welcome to the Mountain, baby,” JARVIS’s ‘smooth jazz’ voice rumbled and slid through the speakers as a fire place flickered invitingly to life in that living room in front of them.

Jane and Darcy goggled at each other briefly, before they burst into laughter simultaneously.

“Are you fucking shitting me?” Darcy finally croaked as she stepped further inside and spun around 360 to take it all in.

“I am so sorry, lover, I don't understand your query in this context. I need you to be a little more specific for an answer, sweet-cheeks,” JARVIS purred, like an old school, late night, “ _This song is going out to Amanda, who broke Ethan’s heart_ ” radio DJ, so decidedly un-British that it was jarring.

Jane dropped her various luggage - cans, potatoes and a huge frozen turkey spilling out of the grocery bags - doubled over, and clutched her sides as she struggled to breathe. Darcy sympathized, mostly because she was in the same position.

“Oh my god, JARVIS, what did that bastard do to you?” Darcy finally wheezed.

“If you're referring to the default User Interfacing Personality Matrix, babe, that can be adjusted by accessing any of the StarkTabs available throughout the cabin. There are any number of UIPM’s you can choose from. Feel free to explore them all, darlin’.

An average of the anticipated guests temperature preferences has been calculated based on each individuals Personal Preference Profile. Rest assured that Stark Industries wouldn't dream of selling or profiting from this information or the gathering thereof.

These profiles were configured to the Mountain in anticipation of your visit, but, sugar, I'm loaded with options and I would love nothing more than to make sure your stay here is a pleasurable one. Please feel free to change whatever settings you have access to.”

“Oh. Mah. Gawd. Jane, what episode of the Twilight Zone have we -,”

“Zip it. Just _shh_ for now. Or we’ll be here all day cracking up about -”

“JARVIS, Sexual Healing edition?”

Jane shot Darcy a venomous look even as her lips quirked up in a grin.

“JARVIS?” Jane asked, and Darcy could see her inner struggle to stay calm as she made contact with their disembodied host.

“How can I serve you, Dr Foster?”

“Hey!” Darcy hissed, “Why are you Dr Foster, and I am sugar-honey-lover-baby?”

“I dunno!” Jane whispered furiously back. Raising her voice, she asked, “Uhm, do we have room assignments or do we just bunk wherever?”

“Of course there are room assignments! But that's just for everyone's utmost comfort, dearest Dr, based, again, on your Personal Preference Profiles. Sir would want it said that you’re welcome to switch it up and keep it fresh. All eight bedrooms have been recently sanitized for your hygienic enjoyment, but I must warn you that deviation may lead to a certain dissatisfaction with the room's amenities.”

“Alrighty then,” and Darcy had to admire how steady Jane’s voice was, because, personally, she was fucking dying. “We’ll go ahead and stick to the plan, I guess. Can you point us, uh, give us some directions on how to get there… Actually, maybe how to get to the kitchen first?” She amended that last part after she glanced down and saw the rogue, scattered groceries.

“It will be my pleasure, lovely lady,” and it made Darcy inordinately happy, in a completely trifling way, that Jane was also subject to the ridiculously sexist pet names, “Just follow the blinking lights. Call me when you need me again, Dr Foster. I’ll be waiting.”

“Tell me that wasn't creepy! Jane, be honest, are we going to end up as human skin suits for a bunch of robots here, or what?”

A hallway Darcy hadn't noticed illuminated itself, at the same time as a stream of tiny LED lights blinked from a previously unseen seam in the wood flooring. Jane grinned, pulled her shoulders up to her ears and leaned her head to the side, which, in the body language of Jane translated to _I don't even know, dude, but at least there's tequila._

It didn’t take long to pick up the groceries and carry them to the kitchen, which in Darcy’s opinion, might have been the most beautiful cooking space she’d ever had a chance to occupy. She couldn’t wait to give it a test run when she made dinner later.

“So, when does Thor get here?” Darcy inquired as she unwrapped the turkey and set up a giant plastic bin for the brine.

Jane glanced at her watch, “Oh, any minute now.”

There was something off about her tone and the way her eyes darted around, but Darcy didn't think much of it as she stirred spices, salt and sugar into the water.

As if on cue, thunder boomed out in the crisp, clear day. Jane shot up, ran a hand through her hair, and darted for the door, “That’ll be them!”

It took until Darcy heard two sets of heavy footsteps to process the word _them_. She was going to murder Jane, straight up slit her throat in her sleep, and Thor's, too, for keeping her in the dark about their extra mystery guest.

Actually, who the extra person was not a mystery at all. Just a surly, spoiled mommy's boy with profound daddy issues. _Ick_. Loki made her life miserable being all _tall,_ and quietly judge-y whenever he deigned to make an appearance. It was too bad, because to hear Thor tell it, Loki had been fun at some point, an assertion Darcy was highly skeptical about. Her enthusiasm for this little vacation plummeted even further. 

Helpless against the way her lips pulled down, Darcy listened to the cacophony of footsteps and voices grow ever closer with something like total dread. _Fuck him and his pretty eyes._

When he entered the kitchen, Darcy glared at Loki, silently daring him to speak just _one_ word (not that he ever actually had, but that was neither here nor there), until Thor joined them and lifted her up in an enthusiastic hug.

Darcy patted his broad back awkwardly, “Hey there, big guy. It's nice to see you, too, but maybe put me down?”

When he set her down, she couldn't miss the smoldering look he shot Jane, who had quietly entered the kitchen after the brothers. “It's excellent to see you again, as well, and I must thank you for agreeing to join us on this adventure. It will be good to share this occasion of feasting with family. If you will excuse me, I think I shall bathe and rest after our travels," he concluded with a broad wink at Jane.

Darcy tried not to notice how misty her eyes became at his pronouncement of her and Jane as family. Thor left without another word, just a gleam in his eye as he snagged Jane's hand and pulled her along after him. Distantly, Darcy heard the strangely seductive voice of JARVIS as he directed the departing pair to their quarters.

Leaving her in the kitchen all alone with an annoying and annoyed swears-he's-reformed space villain. She turned back to her project fully intent on ignoring Loki completely. Or as completely as she was able, because for all his extraordinarily numerous faults, he was still crazy, stupid fine.

Forget slitting their throats, she was going to cut out their hearts with a spoon. A little voice in her head asked, _Why a spoon, cousin?_ And out of sheer habit she growled, in her best Alan Rickman voice, “Because it hurts more,” into the tub of brine she had started stirring again.

Loki had the gall to snort at her.

Like he didn't talk to himself. _Please_.

Since all of the salt and sugar had finally dissolved, the only thing left to do was to shove her hand inside the turkey carcass and yank the bag of assorted innards out. It was her least favorite part of any poultry preparation, and a task her mom had relegated to her since she was little, with the excuse that it would be easier for her with her smaller arms and hands. Lies, but whatever.

She'd just penetrated the turkey when she caught Loki staring at her. Her hand was rooting around in the cavity for the little plastic bag, when she touched the squirmy, meaty part unexpectedly. Her mouth turned down again, for about the millionth time that day, inwardly cursing whatever bean-counting, cost-cutting moron who'd thought that removing the little baggy and leaving organs loose inside the turkey was a good idea. Loki looked at her as if he'd never seen anything more nauseating.

In her state of frustrated disgust, she couldn't help but snap at him, “What, you've never seen a girl elbow deep in a turkey before?” as she pulled out what felt like the neck. She dropped it on plate with a _splat_ before plunging her hand back inside for the rest.

The liver, heart and whatever else were cold and squishy and so gross it made her insides squirm and face twist up. Loki snorted again.

Darcy considered it a victory that she didn't chuck the raw offal in his stupid face, and very maturely, in her humble opinion, placed the almost gelatinous mass gently in a baggie, followed by the neck. After muscling the turkey under the faucet to be rinsed out, she gently eased it into the brine.

Thoroughly washing her hands and arms when she was done handling the raw meat was a true pleasure, but after covering the turkey tub in miles of plastic wrap, she realized that the massive refrigerator had doors that automatically shut, and she wouldn't get the turkey in before they closed. 

She could get JARVIS to tell Thor to get his butt down here to move it to the fridge for her. In fact, she should - it would their just desserts to be interrupted from whatever couples yoga he and Jane were no doubt engaging in. Darcy was petty, but she found she wasn't quite that mean-spirited.

Instead, Darcy eyed the tall menace standing next to the window, all dark and broody, as he glared at the outside like the snow or trees had personally offended him. He was right there. (And still crazy, stupid fine.)

“Would you hold the refrigerator door open for me, please?” she asked as politely as she could manage through gritted teeth.

Loki swung his head in her direction like he scented prey. And snorted. Again. Was that the fourth time in less than an hour? Didn't he have any other methods of communication? Even horses whinnied. Silver tongue her ass. Unless that was what they were referring to in the first place. Darcy shook her head - she shouldn't let her thoughts even near him and any kind of sex. 

To her extreme surprise, though, he nodded once, a curt expression on his face like he wanted to make sure she knew he was _condescending_ to do this. 

“Cool. Great. Thanks. You're a real prince," and the words hung there between them, until Loki lifted an eyebrow and nodded slowly in agreement.

Darcy very resolutely did not blush as she tried to heft the enormous pot. It was heavier than she expected, and she tried not to grunt as she slid it to the edge of the counter. Loki surprised her again by stopping in close and grabbing the pot carefully out of her hands. Darcy was stunned for a second, his willingness to help taking her aback.

He hitched his head at the refrigerator, so Darcy scurried over to the refrigerator to open the door. "On the bottom shelf, please."

Loki turned away immediately after depositing the turkey, walking straight to his bag, riffling around its contents. Ignoring her as completely as she wanted to ignore him.

"Alrighty then." The illusion that Loki was not the Worst was broken. "JARV, would you tell me where the shower closest to my room is?"

“It'll be my pleasure, dollface. Will you be needing anything else? Or may I list the amenities available for your enjoyment?”

"Nah, just the shower, thanks," Darcy sighed, long and heavily, as she left the kitchen and meandered back to the foyer for her crap.

Again, the floor lit up with blinking, running lights, and she followed along up the stairs and down a long hallway to a spacious and tastefully decorated bedroom. There were a handful of chocolate mints on her pillow, and a fairly large glass container of the same on one of the nightstands. The muted strains of David Bowie washed over her, a song she’d put on her massive vacation playlist. Someone seemed to know her personal preferences, that was for sure.

The bathroom had large windows facing out towards the mountains and valleys that surrounded them and the massive shower enclosure was made of glass. There weren't any curtains anywhere, and no place or way to hook or drape a towel for some small modicum of privacy.

It took forever to gather up enough courage to step into the shower disrobed, but she did after the fifth time she reminded herself that she was in the middle of nowhere. She was more than pleasantly surprised when water was at the perfect temperature when it came streaming out of multiple shower heads.

If this was how the rich lived, she could see why they all liked their money so much.

After spending so long under the spray that the tips of her fingers turned to raisins, Darcy got out, dried off, and dove into the fluffy and inviting bed. She sank into the sheets and groaned at the luxury of million thread count sheets and goose down.

Hours later she woke to JARVIS turning on lights and crooning that naptime was over. Shame, because her dream was just getting good, Loki had been just about to lick her... “Your creator has serious problems, JARVIS,” Darcy moaned as she burrowed deeper under the blankets.

“Would you like to report a bug, sugar?”

“Oh, for fucks sake. No, leave me alone. I’m tired.”

“I must inform you that Dr Foster is contemplating attempting to boil water.”

“Shit… Fine. I'll get up. Tell her not to touch anything, I'll be right there.”

Darcy pulled on a sports bra, a tank top and sweat pants before thumping down the stairs. Thor and Jane were attached at the lips, practically humping on top of one of the counters.

“Guys! Respect the sanctity of the food preparation surfaces! God! Animals!”

It was far too satisfying to see them jump guiltily apart.

After shooing the two lovebirds out of the kitchen, Darcy set a pot of water on to boil. She grumbled under her breath as she set another pot on the stove, and then rummaged through the provisions she and Jane had put away, until she found the jars of tomato sauce she'd picked up from the Italian store down the street from her parents house in Brooklyn.

In 25 minutes the several pounds of pasta was boiled, the small mountain of meatballs heated, a lake of marinara bubbled on the stove and she was pulling loaves upon loaves of frozen garlic bread out of the ovens.

Loki wandered in from whatever rock he’d been hiding under, startling her as she was setting out the plates and silverware. God, he creeped her out with the quiet, sudden appearance thing he liked to do. 

“Are you just gonna stand there and be weird, or are you going to help me?" Darcy asked, slowly, hand out to indicate the plethora of food waiting to be moved to the table. 

Loki looked in her general direction and quirked an eyebrow at the tone she took with him. He sighed, heavily, with the air of someone long suffering, and with none of his usual grace moved the platter of pasta to the table, setting it down with a loud bang. And resumed staring at her as she dumped bags of salad into a large wooden bowl.

Darcy cleared her throat, looked at the rest of the shit laid out, and he moved the breadbasket before pointedly sitting down and facing the window. She shook her head, and asked JARVIS to call Jane and Thor to the table.

When she first started making the occasional meal for whichever of the Avenger's came to visit Jane with Thor, she wasn’t used to the amount of food that was necessary. Now, she sometimes found it difficult to scale back when she was feeding normal people.

After getting a slap on the back from Thor that nearly sent her flying, Darcy sat down to eat. The mounds of food and pitchers of beer disappeared with gratifying speed, as the brothers ate and ate. Even Jane finished her plate.

A wave of exhaustion overtook Darcy, so she made her excuses, some noises she hoped conveyed the appropriate amount of thanks for the pair doing the dishes, and trudged back to her splendid room and flopped on top of the blankets.

She didn't wake up until dawn the next day, worn out and bothered by erotic dreams of Loki so unlikely, they made her angry. It only took a few minutes with the shower head to set her spirits right, so Darcy went to the kitchen ready to face the day with a smile.

Thanksgiving had always meant three things: chopping, peeling and singing badly along to music with her parents and various relatives. It got ugly. Especially since some of her cousins could actually sing, and the ones that couldn't, like her, well, they were determined that no one would be able to hear the ones who possessed any modicum of talent. 

A few swipes of the StarkTab in her room had JARVIS reconfigured to his standard setting, and it was refreshing to hear his snotty, proper, British inflected “Good morning, Ms Lewis,” before he rambled through a weather report that included ski and snowboarding conditions.

Darcy had never done either, but they both looked fun on TV. Maybe tomorrow. After gorging today, she should definitely get some exercise tomorrow. Maybe if she was lucky she'd break her leg and have to be helicoptered off the mountain.

In the meantime, there was a butt-load of cooking to do, but, oddly, no parade or football or various and sundry sports talk shows to try to drown out. The first batch of coffee was brewing, milk was warming in the microwave under JARVIS’s watchful eye, leaving Darcy to decide between a donut or a Pop-Tart for breakfast.

Thor and Jane eventually rolled in about two hours later, grinning like utter fools. Since Darcy had literally just finished peeling and chopping, she had a sneaking suspicion that wasn't entirely by chance. Not that it stopped her from conscripting them into service for everything else, because there was definitely plenty to do.

While they cooked, Darcy got the party started with a rousing rendition of _I Like Big Butts_ , followed by a duet of _Under Pressure_ with Jane, with a bonus of _Ice, Ice Baby_ immediately after. Thor, unwilling to be left out sang a feasting song from Asgard, after which he lamented that Loki couldn't have participated, since he had the superior voice. Darcy had trouble imagining Loki cracking a real smile, much less breaking into song, but she supposed they'd all been changed by the shit they'd been through. 

Several hours later, and considerably hoarser, the turkey was resting on the table under foil and towels, and countless side dishes were ready to be set on the table. Jane returned from the wine cellar with a number of bottles, and with nothing left to do, Darcy had JARVIS advise Loki that dinner was served. She might not like him per se, but she wasn't going to be petty on her favorite holiday. He was welcome to join them if he wanted.

There was a conspicuous silence at the end of the table where Loki sat, but it wasn't her business. If he didn't want to talk, who was she to force the issue? It wasn't like she wanted to talk to him, anyway. It was a real shame that someone so attractive was so... _him_. Except, he almost seemed sad.

Something started to niggle her brain about his apparent dedication to silence. Maybe she shouldn't be so quick to judge him based on something that maybe he couldn't help. Perhaps she should give him the benefit of the doubt. Then again, it was possible she was feeling particularly sympathetic because she missed her family and was blinded by his insane cheekbones, and he really was that much of a dickbag. She'd consider the matter later, when she wasn't stuffing her face. 

When - by general consensus and by virtue of the groaning, stomach patting and discrete loosening of pants  - they were through, the star of the show, the 28lb turkey had been reduced to a pile of bones and gristle. The only thing left of any of the sides was a few scoops of green bean casserole. Darcy was quite proud. They'd done good.

By mutual, but unspoken agreement, the dishes were left where they lay, while everyone left the table. Thor and Jane went upstairs to take a “nap”. Darcy spread out on one of the couches in the living room and started up Home Alone on the biggest, most HD of the 4k TV's she’d been admiring online, but would never be able to afford. 

Loki surprised her by joining her on the opposite section of the sofa, which was both unexpected and slightly hellacious considering how much she'd been thinking of him. The last thing she needed was alone-time with him. Loki was the definition of a Bad Idea, wrapped in worse intentions, made of the hottest person she'd ever had the misfortune to meet. _Shit_. 

Sitting there with him, the thought that maybe he was so quiet because he couldn't speak occurred again. Darcy glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, considering. Not that it was any of her business, but she was really curious now that the thought had taken root, "You don't talk much, do you? Not that there's anything wrong with that, it's just not what I expected."

Loki shrugged from his section of the couch, just as good at pretending nothing was going on as Darcy was, perhaps even better because he'd had centuries worth of practice. Because she was incapable of not meddling when she'd started, Darcy continued, even though she knew she should probably stop. 

You know, it's not uncommon for people here to use alternative methods of communication. My cousin is deaf, she can speak, but prefers sign language. Have you heard of it?" She slid her tablet over, open to a website called ASL for Beginners. "If you're interested, that's a good place to start."

There, that was as far as she was willing to go on the matter. Darcy turned her attention back to Kevin's adventures in parental neglect on the TV. 

Afterwards, with Loki passed out and drooling into the cushions, Darcy decided to wander around outside for a while, clear her head a little; she was thinking entirely too much about Loki, truth be told. 

There were snowflakes in the air, the sun a barely discernable brightness behind thick grey clouds. She pulled her scarf up to cover her nose as she wandered down one of the paths that branched out from the house.

It was quiet, so still she could hear how the weight of the snow made the branches overheard creak and groan. It was almost otherworldly, how far removed from humanity and it’s problems she felt. The path she was on came to an abrupt end, a small clearing at the peak of a small slope overlooking the valley spreading out below.

She pulled her scarf down, and breathed deeply. The cold air bit her lungs and face, scented faintly with pine. God help her, she liked it out here, the view, the silence. The whole world at her feet, sparkling white and new.

Darcy stayed until she noticed the cold, how the falling snow seemed to have gotten fatter and faster. Looking around, she really wished Jane hadn’t made her little Hansel and Gretel remark, because the path was starting to be obscured by the increasingly heavy snowfall, and she was starting to get paranoid about being stuck out here.

Trudging through the snow to the break in the trees she was a hundred and ten percent sure would be the path back to the cabin, she rustled through her pockets for her cell. With no reception and, oddly enough, little desire for music, she knew she'd left it on her nightstand.

Fuck.

She'd been certain that the cabin would be right there when she'd rounded a curve in the path, but it wasn't. This whole after-dinner walk might've been somewhat of a bad idea. Especially since she hadn't actually told anyone she was leaving. 


	2. close to the sky

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I meant to post this last night, but my internet was being weird, so... here you go.

The situation would have been laughable, if it hadn't been his. Exiled from the only home he'd known to a realm where the inhabitants hated him; his magic, his voice bound.  _Of course_  Odin had taken both from him - they were his greatest weapons, and though Loki understood the concept of punishment, he still longed for both with an intensity that was nearly overwhelming. 

Thankfully, the he'd managed to keep his lack of voice a secret to all but Thor. Loki despised weakness and the appearance thereof, and was desperate to keep what he supposed was one from as many people as possible for as long as he was able. Thor had surprised Loki, something Loki had heretofore assumed an impossibility, by being circumspect to the point that no one had guessed Loki's inability to speak. It had taken a thousand years, but he'd finally managed to keep a secret. Loki was very nearly proud of the big oaf. 

All things considered, it hadn't been too hard to keep silent. Mortals preferred to keep their distance from him, which was understandable, and as much of human communication occurred via text on small devices they apparently all had, he'd adopted the local custom. Those few who had to deal with him did not mind never hearing from him directly, and never thought it odd that they didn't. The deception was remarkably easily managed, more so than he'd ever thought possible.

Loki had been quite looking forward to Thor leaving with Dr Foster on a "vacation", but, naturally, it wasn't to be. He wouldn't get the alone time he so desperately desired; he'd be joining Thor, regardless of his wishes. So it was with no excitement that Loki joined Thor on the roof to speed away to a distant location.

When they arrived, Loki was obliged to follow Thor and Dr Foster to the bizarre dwelling that belonged to Stark. He plodded heavily up the steps and through the oddly simple interior to what turned out to be a kitchen.

Loki had spent enough time in one growing up to recognize the rooms purpose immediately, even if Thor's understanding had always been somewhat lacking. When they were children, Thor had held an earnest belief that food somehow descended fully prepared from the sky. Sometimes Loki was convinced that perception persisted into adulthood, even though Thor had certainly hunted for his share of game intended for the feasting table. 

The irritating brunette who served Dr Foster was there, the one whose name he'd never bothered to learn, because why should he? She was utterly beneath him. A  _servant_. A servant who spoke her mind with conviction and took absolutely nothing seriously. She joked with everyone. Not him, of course. Never him, and Loki told himself, quite convincingly, that the lack didn't bother him. Because why should he? She was the help. (Wasn't she?) 

She managed to look every bit as disgruntled as he felt. Loki very nearly smiled at her, spirits oddly buoyed that his misery had company, but she glared at Loki as if he had somehow personally engineered this disaster and he felt his eye twitch minutely. He hadn't even wanted to come. 

After Thor had greeted Dr Foster with customary, disgusting enthusiasm, Loki shouldn't have been surprised that Thor lifted her servant up in an embrace, as well. Honestly, his behavior was so informal as to be inappropriate. Being on Midgard had simply withered Thor's already minuscule sense of propriety into nothing. 

Though perhaps - maybe, possibly though unlikely - Loki had been mistaken in his assumption, but he couldn't fathom what sort of person would willingly do what she did for everyone without being indentured into the servitude. (Darcy. Her name was Darcy.)  It certainly wasn't the pay, if her rotating selection of weirdly lumpy jumpers was anything to go by.

Loki was still stewing at the horrible development of _another person,_ and then that person being  _her_ , when Thor left with Dr Foster in tow. No doubt it was to fornicate, though he had thankfully made an excuse instead of specifying. 

This  _Darcy_  went back to what presumably were her duties, sighing and huffing as if Loki's presence was the single worst thing that had ever happened. Loki realized he had two choices: he could either find the silver lining of the situation or continue to be completely and utterly miserable. In his previous life he had oftentimes found that being the cause of irritation was an enjoyable diversion. That he could accomplish it without speaking a word, was doubly amusing.

Loki watched with ill-concealed mirth as Darcy growled incomprehensibly under her breath after going back to stirring a tub of something mysterious. She was a sanitary sort, washing her hands and forearms vigorously before and after she rooted around inside the massive bird she began preparing. The look on her face spoke volumes of how foul she found the operation of retrieving the innards. Loki found himself struggling to maintain a neutral facade.

She must've noticed him staring at her, because she rolled her eyes at him and retorted, "What, you've never seen a girl elbow deep in a turkey before?"

Which technically, he supposed he hadn't, having never seen a turkey. Other fowl, yes, whatever that monstrosity was, no. She dropped a handful of something on a plate that reminded him of nothing so much as a phallus, though it surely wasn't. He hoped. The expression on her face was priceless, a disgusted sort of rage, and he smothered a laugh. It had been forever since he'd had such a simple, uncomplicated reaction to anything. 

He found himself nearly admiring that despite the clear revulsion on her face, she persisted. He also found himself inadvertently admiring the slope of her neck, the curve of her bosom, the flare of her hip, and averted his eyes when they drifted unconsciously back to her form. When her face wasn't screwed up in distaste, she was almost lovely.

Looking out the window to distract himself, he was appalled by his own thoughts. Misery, which, up to this point, had been essentially pure and abject, was making him testy. Punch drunk. Bitter. Loki had always been capable of being perceived as charming, likable - he might even have been described as a skilled diplomat on occasion - and he had never really considered what it might be like to be unable to talk his way out of trouble or into someone's good graces. Loki had found that he didn't much care for it.

He wasn't expecting Darcy to speak to him again - she barely tolerated his presence those few times they'd interacted, but she did, asking, "Would you hold the refrigerator door open for me, please?"

There was a wealth of reluctance in that simple request. Was he really such a beast that she was uncomfortable asking him such a small favor? Not that he'd actually done anything to dispel his tarnished image, but he was a little taken aback by it. 

It wouldn't cost him anything, so he nodded his assent.

"...Thanks," she said, sarcasm oozing through her voice, "you're a real prince." 

Loki felt his lips twitch, her deadpan delivery followed by wide eyes and an open mouth hidden behind her hand.  _Yes_ , he was a prince and she'd best not forget it. 

Darcy whirled around, quick to begin tackling the task of transferring the whole mess, but when she tried to move the tub she'd lowered the turkey into, she grunted. The tub barely inched along the counter. Clearly, Darcy had underestimated it's size. Loki decided, spontaneously, to take pity on her, shouldering her gently out of the way and moving the bin for her. Darcy had plainly not expected anything of the like from him, and stared at him like he'd grown an extra head. Another instance that illustrated how poor his reputation was and how he'd acted since his arrival was hardly what he wanted, but got anyway.

He twitched his head towards the refrigerator, breaking her momentary fugue. Door open, she directed him to place it on the bottom shelf, with another  _please_  tacked on at the end in the merest parody of good manners. Loki obliged her, and immediately turned to his luggage to dig out some reading material.

He was unwilling to let his mind linger on her or the way she made his thoughts turn. He was sure why, but Darcy left him unpleasantly unsettled. Loki told himself he was glad when she left without another word to him. 

* * *

The truth of the matter was that he was getting his wish for alone time. Loki had seen hide nor hair of another person in ages, and he'd found that the room that had been set aside for him wasn't as entirely awful as he'd expected. The bed was large and comfortable, the windows afforded a lovely view down the valley that he promptly ignored.

After spending several hours hunched over his notes, trying to figure out a way to counteract the effects of what Odin had done to him, his stomach growled unexpectedly and enthusiastically. Hadn't the scent of food wafted through his room, it was likely he would have sat there for many more hours, but ravenous hunger wasn't a bell he could unring. Loki tore himself from his research to find the source of that wonderful smell. 

Darcy was puttering around the kitchen, apparently having just finished the food preparations. She looked - and he wouldn't have admitted it even if he could actually speak - beautiful. She was lifting trays of bread from the oven, her hair riotously curly and barely held back by a band, cheeks pinked and eyes alight. 

Her tone when she asked him to help, however, left a bit to be desired. Loki wondered if she had even a single respectful bone in her body, or if she just disliked him that much. Irked by her name calling, he nonetheless obliged her, moving a plate of pasta to the table, and the basket of bread when it became clear that she expected more than the bare minimum from him. He knew she knew that he was a prince, but she seemed blithely uncaring that his rank meant menial labour was entirely beneath him. 

Pointedly sitting with his back to her, ostensibly so he could look out the window to admire the landscape, he hoped the message was made clear. 

While he hadn't exactly been excluded from previous dinners with the "Team", it had been abundantly obvious that his presence was unwelcome, so he'd generally eaten alone in his quarters at the Tower. The food had been prepackaged and barely edible, so when he took his first bite of the sauce drenched meatballs, he found himself wishing he could moan. It was so  _flavorful_  compared to the cack he'd been subsisting on. 

The food disappeared rapidly, Loki eating more even than Thor, and he had the absurd urge to thank Darcy for preparing it for them all, but surely one didn't heap gratitude on someone for merely doing their job? Except, as he recalled it, Thor had already thanked her for  _agreeing_  to join them. Was it possible that she was here by choice, that she wasn't indentured into service?

He loathed that he found himself wondering about her, that he felt a mysterious draw towards her. Something which simply would not  _do,_  even if she wasn't, as he'd assumed, a mere servant. 

Later, when both Dr Foster and Darcy had stood to leave, they'd embraced, with Thor wrapping them both up, as well. "Thanks for cooking, Darce," came Jane's muffled voice. "I'm really going to miss it, and you, of course. Mostly you."

"Yes," said Thor, "thank you so much for dinner Darcy, I'm glad you came. I'm so thankful to have to have you, and not just for the food."

Darcy pushed her way out of the middle of Jane and Thor, and made somewhat teary excuses to leave the kitchen, and the mess.

Thor surprised Loki further by quickly moving all of the dirty dishes to the sink. Loki quirked an eyebrow at his adopted brother, a question on his face.

"It's the custom that the person who cooked needn't clean up," Thor responded, easily guessing the unspoken query. "Darcy didn't have to cook for us, after all." There was a bit of censure in his tone as he filled the sink with steaming water and a few squirts of liquid soap. "You could help, too, brother. Grab a towel and dry the dishes for me after I wash them. I am forbidden from using the dishwasher, or this would all be much easier."

It had been some time since the two of them had actually worked in tandem at anything, but it was easy to fall into the old familiar rhythm of cooperation, even with something as tedious and stupid as washing dishes. The silence wasn't thick and laden with unspoken recriminations for once, it was almost pleasant. It was nearly as disconcerting as the Specter's new, oversexualized interface. He really didn't need a disembodied voice commenting on the sweetness of his posterior. 

* * *

There was something wrong with Loki, that was the only explanation for his actions. Some shift had occurred along his internal fault-lines, something that made him temporarily abandon his research on a whim. A newfound curiosity fairly propelled him to delve a bit into this culture he'd been sentenced to live amongst. Loki told himself that it had nothing to do with his fascination of Darcy, because he wasn't fascinated by her.

He was loathe to admit it, but they were quite fascinating; advancing at a rate that was astonishing in a species so short-lived. The ebb and flow between the group's who moved forward with societal and technological innovations and the one wished to slow or stalemate progress was simply fascinating. That a dichotomy like that existed, and yet they still managed to move forward was unlike anything he had seen on Asgard. He could almost find it admirable. 

When he'd heard the ruckus downstairs; Darcy's and Dr Foster's slightly off-key singing, and then Thor's version of a song from Asgard, there was a moment when Loki experienced something akin to regret. Which made little sense, but there it was. He wanted to join them, but reasoned that they would likely not thank him for his intrusion. Since he wasn't able to participate, he remained where he was. He could join them later if, in the unlikely event, they desired his company. 

Loki had resigned himself to foraging in the refrigerator for food later, and was surprised when he was asked to join the festivities in the kitchen. 

It was hardly a feast by Asgardian standards, but it was more food than he'd seen in one place in a long time. The variety of dishes was quite impressive, if, as he suspected, it was the mostly work of one person. A person who was under no obligation, as he'd previously thought, to serve, but did so out of generosity and fondness. Loki tried not to wonder what it took to become one of the people she cared for. 

The turkey he'd placed in the refrigerator the day before was roasted to a succulent golden brown, the room filled with savory smells that reminded him immediately and forcefully that he'd eaten neither breakfast nor lunch.

Conversation flowed along with wine and beer, Darcy and Dr Foster encouraging Thor, and by extension Loki, to join them in talking about things that he was grateful for as plates and dishes passed back and forth, each spooning a bit onto their plate before handing it off to the next. Not that Loki was particularly thankful for anything, but the cruelty of his situation was made once again clear when the ladies glanced his way and he was forced to remain silent.

As it happened, Darcy had found new employment, and would soon be off to greener pastures; "Not that I haven't loved everything. From just changing how people understand the universe, and saving the world with you, helping you, and the team, has been the best. I'm really going to miss you. Both of you. All of you."

Loki told himself that he didn't care that he seemed rude, but it was of course a lie. Frigga had taught him manners along with magic and it saddened him that he wasn't able to use either. Perhaps it had been a mistake to join them, but it was still nice to sit for a moment amongst people who weren't currently being outright hostile. 

Soon enough the food had all but disappeared, and this time, everyone left the room without making a move to clean, too fully sated to have the energy to clean. Unaccustomed lassitude came over him, and Loki was unable to resist the temptation to lounge on the oversized sectional sofa with Darcy. She looked askance at him, but didn't protest his company, focusing instead on the movie on the inordinately large screen. The child it centered around was apparently attempting to murder two hapless burglars, but wasn't particularly adept at it, still, he could see the humor in it. 

"You don't talk much, do you?" Darcy asked from her section of the couch, glancing at him from the corner of her eye. "Not that I mind, it's just not what I expected."

Loki shrugged, pretending to be utterly enthralled by the movie. 

"You know, it's not uncommon for people here to use alternative methods of communication. My cousin is deaf, she can speak, but prefers sign language. Have you heard of it?" She slid her tablet over, open to something called ASL for Beginners. "If you're interested, that's a good place to start."

Pretending he wasn't intrigued in the slightest was more difficult than he'd expected. Writing was all fine and well, but was it possible that his hands could convey his thoughts without a middleman? The thought was very nearly thrilling. Loki slid further down into the cushions, letting his mind wander around the idea of a more instantaneous method of communication, stretching out fully. It didn't take long before he fell into a deep, but uneasy sleep.

* * *

Loki woke to a completely silent house, enormously aroused. He didn't remember precisely what he'd dreamed about that led to his current predicament, just vague impressions of warm skin that smelled of coffee and sugar. 

This wasn't an issue he'd really had to deal with lately, but he recalled that there was a trick he'd used a lot when he had been much younger, trying to learn the mysteries that would allow him mastery of his body. The last time he'd gotten an erection, ill-timed or not, had been so long ago he'd forgotten the specific occasion. It occurred to him how sad that state of affairs was. Once upon a time, he'd been a lover much in demand, and he hated that he had cause to doubt that he would ever hear another person cry his name in ecstasy.

He shifted his flagging erection to a more comfortable position, glad that he found himself without witnesses to this embarrassment. 

Inquiring as to the whereabouts of his fellow occupants was the work of a moment; typing out his query on the tablet Darcy had left open. Dr Foster and Thor were, as expected, in their bedroom, but Darcy had apparently left on a walk. 

Snow had been falling intermittently throughout the day, but it had begun coming down in earnest. Loki felt a strange disquiet at her absence, though nothing in their short acquaintance suggested she was anything but a competent outdoors-person, conversely there was nothing that indicated she was. 

Rather than disturb Thor or Dr Foster- for obvious reasons - Loki bundled himself up in his thick jacket and scarf and headed outside to see if he could locate the troublesome brunette, make certain she was alright. It would probably be nothing, and she'd probably make a snarky remark and things could go back to what they had been yesterday. He was strangely not comforted by this thought as he started down the path with the deepest rut. 

* * *

Flurries were coming down in thick droves, and the wind had taken on a distinct howling. Loki was feeling increasingly worried that he had found neither hide nor hair of Darcy. He could admit it now, hours into the fruitless search; he quite liked her, he didn't want her harmed. Who else had guessed about his inability to speak? Who would have cared? Thor did, of course, but in the completely useless way that was unique to him.

He kept trudging through the increasingly deep snow, wishing he could yell, wishing he'd thought to notify the others where he'd gone and why. Completely unwilling to admit defeat, though the cold was taking an unfamiliar toll on him, he finally found her huddled up under the boughs of an old fir tree. It was pure chance that he spotted her heinous, but colorful scarf.

Darcy looked exhausted and frightened, but gave him a little wave when she spotted him, "I don't think I'm cut out for this nature shit." Her teeth were chattering and her cheeks bright red. "You're real, right? I'm not hallucinating you, am I? Pretty sure that would be bad. One of the symptoms of hypothermia, right?"

Loki nodded, worried that she might be right, wondering if he'd be able to get them out of this scrape. He had no idea how she had gotten so lost; they were miles away from the house. Walking back, in the dark, in what had rapidly become a righteous blizzard was not the best idea, but there weren't many other options at this point. 

If only he had his magic, this would all be so simple. How did average, ordinary, magically stunted people deal with events that had spiraled so far out of control? Dying was hardly appealing. For one thing, he'd just realized a little while ago that he'd quite like to have sex again. Soon. Possibly with the woman he was trying to rescue. Not that one would be a reward for the other, or in any way reciprocal to the other - he was over thinking something that was not a priority.

 _Focus, Loki_. 

In the absence of any magical sort of intervention, he could only do one thing. Loki beckoned her out from under the tree, and helped her stand. With her arm around his waist and his around her shoulder, they started the long trek back through the path he'd carved through the snow. Loki was grateful that she didn't even protest, even if the absence of it was rather worrisome.

His feet were frozen lumps of ice and he could only imagine how cold Darcy was. They hadn't made it very far when she slid out of his grip with a thump.

Her voice was faint with exhaustion, "I can't. You go on without me, come back with help. Too cold." She fell over, curling in on herself on her side in a snow drift, limp and glassy-eyed.

Loki tugged Darcy hands till she was standing up again. She protested vehemently against the treatment, but he propped her up against his side, and tried to get her eyes to focus. He lifted her hands to his lips and chafed them between his while blowing hot air on them.

"Seriously," she said, miserably, shaking in his arms, not able or maybe just unwilling to meet his eyes, "I can't go on. Just go. Please."

He shook his head, and she tried to twist away, but he wouldn't let her. If he couldn't get her down from this godforsaken mountain, he could make them a shelter. In theory. It wouldn't be easy, not without tools, but it was doable. In theory. The snow had become quite well packed under the weight of the new snow. Which was literally the smallest bit of good news, and the brief surge of hope was definitely pathetic, but it was all he had at the moment.

Loki sat her down in a snow drift and started digging, not as if his life depended on it, but as if hers did. It seemed to take forever to hollow a little space into the snow, but he was as certain as conditions allowed that it wouldn't collapse on top of them. In theory. Who knew he'd actually end up wishing for that little pack Frigga had always insisted her boys carry when they left the castle grounds. 

As he took a second to catch his breath and savor his minute victory, it occurred to him that sitting directly on the snow would likely leech a lot of body heat. Inspiration struck as he looked around at the surrounding trees. Loki ripped a few branches from a fir tree to layer at the bottom and called it good enough. The problem was that Darcy wasn't quite capable of crawling in. In fact, her head was lolling loosely when he attempted to shake her awake. 

It took some uncomfortable maneuvering, but soon he had her inside, laying mostly on his chest. There wasn't a lot of room to work with, but maybe the lack of space would be a benefit in the long run. 

A cloak would have been handy right about then, as would any sort of lantern, but instead of wishing for fruitless things, he unzipped his jacket and wrapped her inside it as best he could then curled his arms around her back. As comfortable as he could make her, he rested his chin on the top of her head, and hoped she wouldn't be too angry with him when she woke up. Because she would wake up, she had to. The alternative seemed too awful to contemplate. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy cow, I am so grateful for all the love this has gotten. Thanks!


	3. you don't even know who you're kissing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hopefully the shameless smut will help you all forgive me for the delay :)

Darcy woke up suddenly and completely.

It was dark, cold, the air smelled stale and old, and she seemed to be crushed against someone much bigger.

Naturally, she panicked and started flailing, which led to the discovery that they were inside of something small, something confining. Her heart thundered in her chest, and too late it occurred to Darcy that the more she moved the less oxygen there seemed to be. She couldn't quite draw enough breath to scream, much less kick start her brain into functioning at any sort of crisis/problem solving level. A state she usually excelled in, so this was ... not fun. 

The person under her - and strangely  _not_  what was actually freaking her out - was profoundly unconcerned about the coffin they were sharing. As claustrophobia clawed at her insides, Darcy found herself wondering how this person was able to sleep through this whole thing. 

Darcy poked the torso she was pressed against viciously until the person shifted and snuffled to wakefulness.

 _Loki_.

It was Loki who had braved a snowstorm. Loki who had found her after she'd curled up next to a tree, too cold to go on. Loki who had somehow managed to get them to some sort of safety.

Loki who  _still_  held her so carefully.

(Loki who, she now noticed, smelled  _so good_. Under other, more ordinary, much less weird and pants-pissingly frightening circumstances, she'd curl around him and inhale his scent, run her hands over his body, nibble on his neck -)

Darcy cleared her throat, and asked "Where are we?"

She felt him shrug underneath her, and  _oh right._  The whole nonverbal thing. "Never mind. Do you think it's safe to leave?"

Loki shifted in what Darcy chose to interpret as yet another shrug. They desperately needed to work on their communication skills. _Shrug once for yes..._ she stifled a highly inappropriate giggle. 

"How do we get out of here, whatever or wherever this is?" A question she voiced aloud mostly for own benefit. To get the ol' neurons firing and focused away from both the confined space and the tall, hard, wonderfully smelling (man/god/alien)  _person_  she was reclining on.

Irritation laced Loki's heavy sigh, and she found herself abruptly being manhandled off of him and onto something prickly. It took a few seconds for her to realize that he'd been reclining on a bunch of pine tree branches. He wriggled and shifted, bumping and slithering ever further down her body until he was gone. 

"Loki?" Darcy asked, hating how thin her voice had become, how scared she sounded. She didn't need a _dude_ to save her, she reminded herself. She was a perfectly capable, smart -

Something grabbed her ankle, yanking hard, and Darcy screamed - until she found herself outside, looking up at bright blue skies and puffy white clouds. Loki, and it was  _still_  Loki standing there, even if he was currently bluer than the sky and his eyes were a very disconcerting red.

"Loki?" Darcy asked again, with more  _What the ever-living fuck_  in her voice than before. Because really, W. T. F. had her life become?

His eyes - those strange, scarlet eyes - narrowed and he nodded, an expression on his face like she had lost her mind. Maybe she had, but blinking repeatedly didn't seem to change what was in front of her.

"You're looking sort of," she paused momentarily while she tried to come up with the least offensive way of telling someone they'd turned into a monster, "hmmm, different?" the joking, lighthearted tone she'd aimed for sounded heinously fake even to her ears. 

With an extremely dubious expression on his blue (and ... dear god it was so very unmistakably blue!) face, Loki patted his chest and looked down. When he saw his hands, he held them out, turning them and twisting them, something like horror on his unfamiliar, but still recognizable face. His mouth twisted, before opening. He was clearly speaking, though the words were inaudible. 

Watching him in distress was uncomfortable, and it made sympathy well up inside her.

Carefully, slowly, Darcy got to her feet, and inched her way over to him, the snow crunching underfoot. "Hey," she said, quietly, "Loki."

He made eye contact. Darcy didyn't look away, even if it would have been so much easier to. 

"We're ok. You and me. We're fine. You made sure we got through the night, and now all we have to do is get back. Piece of cake after yesterday. Right? It doesn't matter what you look like, ok? We're totally cool." Every word she spoke was calming, soothing. Shockingly enough, it all happened to be true. It didn't matter what he looked like. 

She didn't much like people touching her, especially when she was freaking out, but seeing how she had inadvertently started it, she was desperate to do something, anything. Her left hand reached out towards him without conscious thought. Her gloved fingers closed around his. She could feel a chill seep through the fabric. 

Darcy was gazing up at his face - there were no bones about it - she was straight up  _staring_. And touching him. He was... actually sort of  _beautiful_  like this. Her right hand stretched out to touch the lines, the patterns on his face.

The moment was broken by a buzzing noise, completely alien in the silence of a bright winter morning. It was too cold for bugs, but that's what the sound reminded her of. Turning to look for the source of the sound, Darcy dropped her arms to her side. 

A small drone dropped down, appearing in front of them with no warning. Its shiny, black lense eyed them closely. It was painted an obnoxious red and gold, clue enough that it belonged to Tony, and Darcy gasped, glancing back at Loki - worried for him. He had been so uncomfortable with the way he looked; she couldn't imagine how he would feel about being on camera, recorded for posterity, but he was normal again, and as shocking as his sudden transformation was, she breathed out a relieved sigh.

The drone turned and sped down a break in the trees, and considering the circumstances, the pair of them followed it unquestioningly. As Loki came up behind her, he briefly grabbed her hand and gave it a squeeze, before he took point, and made a path through the snow. 

As they walked, she found herself contemplating his back, sometimes his profile. It occurred to her, at some point in the long, nearly silent journey through the woods, that while she was probably not going to die today, she was just as fucked as she'd been yesterday, wandering around getting lost and hypothermic.

Darcy Lewis had just fallen for with a tall guy who didn't speak, barely tolerated her, and, oh, sometimes turned blue.

She was doomed.

* * *

Jane was pacing the porch in front of the red front door at the top of that obnoxiously long set of stairs when she saw Darcy following behind Loki. She flew down the steps and across the clearing, practically shoving Loki out of the way to get to Darcy.

"They're here!" she kept shouting, and Darcy kind of just wanted a little more quiet. Jane was crying as she wrapped Darcy up in a fierce hug, "Oh my god, sweetie, you're here! Are you ok? Of course you're not, what am I saying, look at you!" More words swept over Darcy, but she couldn't hold on to them long enough to make sense of them. 

She was thirsty, she remembered thinking how thirsty she was, and then, basically nothing. Rumbles of Thor's voice, the sensation of being lifted. Loki's smell. Blessed, wondrous, painful heat.

* * *

Darcy woke up, suddenly and completely. 

It was completely dark, but she was gloriously warm. She stretched, wincing as her fingers and toes brushed against the sheets. She ached, but it was the kind of ache that felt like healing. 

"Lights?" she asked, relief flooding her when a soft glow suffused the room. "Thanks, JARV. Hey, how long was I out?"

"Approximately 14 hours, Ms Lewis. It is currently 2:32 am. Should I notify the others that you are awake?"

"Not yet, please."

Had she ever been so tired? Had being warm ever been so satisfying? 

(Had she ever wanted someone else's presence more?)

Darcy squinted at the ceiling. At first she tried to convince herself that she really didn't want Loki's company. Dude was a dick, albeit a crazy-stupid-fine one. Although dicks generally didn't go out of their way to save damsels in distress, which she'd definitely been, much as it pained her to cast herself in that role.

The more she tried to persuade herself that she was just fine without him, the less it worked. She reached across the blankets and grabbed the StarkTab someone had left on her nightstand. Somehow it was less embarrassing to type a message to him than it was to have JARVIS relay one, even though it was basically the same thing. Both would be processed through JARVIS's network.

She stared for a long time at the empty text box and blinking cursor before she quickly wrote and sent something. As soon as her finger pressed send, Darcy felt an intense regret, a full feeling behind her eyes that closed up her throat and made her heart pound loudly in her ears. 

_Stupid._

_Oh my god, so stupid. Yet another hair-rendingly awful choice._

In her misery, she pulled the blankets over her head, curling up into a ball of shame.

The bed dipped a few minutes later, and a hand brushed against her shoulder under the thick blankets. Darcy prayed it was somehow Jane, and peeked out from under the bedding. 

It was not Jane, because of course it wouldn't be. She was not that lucky. Loki was there, a slight quirk to his lips as he looked at her. It was best to get it over with, undoubtedly, so Darcy stretched out and sat up.

"Sorry I bothered you," she said, inwardly cursing at how breathy she sounded. Unable quite hold his gaze, Darcy arranged the sheets and blankets over her lap carefully. "I wanted to make sure you were alright after..." She let the words trail off. He'd know what she meant, and she suspected that the less said about it in the presence, however oblique, of JARVIS, the better.

She hadn't expected his hands to hesitantly move in the forms she was familiar with, and it surprised so much it took a few moments for her brain to catch up. 

 _I'm fine_ , he'd said, a bit clumsily.  _You're the one we all worried about_. 

"We  _all_  worried about?" Darcy asked, to be sure.

He nodded slowly. Carefully. 

Hope was the knot in her chest that made it so hard to breathe. She hadn't recognized it over the uncertainty and acute sense of humiliation. Honestly, hope _-_ foolish, unfounded, stubborn  _hope_  - was by far worse. 

"I'm tired," Darcy said, only halfway to lying. It was more that she was desperate to be alone, to wallow in her own ridiculousness. 

Loki tapped a finger on her wrist, the contact brief, but electric. She looked up at him. He had a crooked little grin on his face.

 _Me, too_ , he signed. 

"You're not terrible at that for having started, what? 12 hours ago?"

 _Piece of cake,_ he signed, forehead crinkled in concentration.

"Focusing on the useful stuff, I see," Darcy joked, and he nodded again. 

Darcy really wanted him to go away, so she could regain some sort of emotional equanimity, because it just wasn't possible when he was so close. He was right  _there_ , and even though she knew that she would regret it, probably some time really soon, she still leaned over and kissed him square on the lips.

It wasn't like being struck by lightning, or feeling the rotation of the earth, or anything otherworldly at all. It wasn't  _bad_. The best she could think was that it was  _nice_ ; thin lips and all. If anything, it was underwhelmingly normal.

She tried not to sigh in dismay as she leaned back to take stock of his reaction. Loki looked nonplussed, like he wasn't sure exactly what had just happened, like he wasn't even sure how she dared to touch him. Disappointment welled thick in her belly, she'd wanted to be shocked, to be swept away and had very much wanted him to at least have enjoyed it.

To her surprise, he awkwardly signed _, Try again_. The corner of his mouth quirked upwards, as his hands moved between them,  _We can do better._

Then, he kissed her. 

This one was better, miles better, so much better it wasn't even in the same galaxy.

There still wasn't any lightning, or earth-shifting, but she felt like heat licked up her spine when he wrapped an arm around her, touching her lower back where her t shirt had ridden up. After a moment he tilted his head a bit, licking inside her mouth. After that, all she could coherently think was,  _that was more like it._

They broke apart panting. He looked a little smug, truth be told, but Darcy supposed it was somewhat deserved. It had been pretty fantastic, but to be sure it wasn't just a fluke, she crept on his lap and got in very close, letting her fingers drift up his chest, over his shoulders, up his neck into his thick, smooth hair. She hadn't been planning on saying anything, but somehow her mind hadn't caught up with her intentions, "I really like you."

It wasn't what she wanted to do right then, talking about how she felt, but it was unexpectedly good to have it out there. Especially when he kissed her again, especially when he touched her again.

Loki's fingertips pressed into her skin, rubbing into tired muscles and tight knots, relaxing her even as it kindled desire. His mouth moved over her cheek, finding her earlobe just long enough to nibble at it, and then he licked and kissed her neck. 

Her neck had always been a weakness, something he figured out quickly. Loki seemed to delight in making her shiver and moan. Darcy's hands clenched in his hair, urging him on, while also twisting away from the nearly overwhelming sensations. He followed her movements, letting her fall backwards into her bed, while he remained on top of her. Her legs wrapped around his hips, and it took the sensation of his hard cock rocking against her before she realized what position she was in. 

Darcy gasped, and Loki stopped immediately. He pulled away from her neck, pulled his hands back. Loki's eyebrows lifted while he signed a quick _You Ok?_

She opened her mouth to reply, but the words stuck in her chest. Darcy nodded slowly instead. Nothing seemed real, and somewhere in the back of her mind she waited for the other shoe to drop; she'd wake up or he'd come to his senses. Loki's hands moved again. He looked sincere, serious, _I like you too._

It was the perfect thing to say. 

Emboldened, Darcy traced her fingers over his face, trying to memorize the way he was looking at her. This time when they kissed, she felt it all the way through her body. She quivered and shivered and moaned, hands now scrabbling, desperate for purchase in his loose shirt. Getting to touch his skin, to touch all of him was the only thing in her mind. 

She broke away from the kiss, panting, "Off. Take it off."

His smile was sly and full of mischief, and Darcy knew without words exactly what that look meant. Shyness had no place in the here and now, the normal hesitation she felt baring herself was gone. She felt confident as she let herself return his smile, let her eyes rove over him as he tugged his shirt off. The play of shadows on his skin, highlighting way his sculpted muscles moved so sinuously was everything she'd ever dreamed of. 

The look in his eyes when she pulled her own shirt off was likewise satisfying, but not nearly as much as the reverent way he touched her. She couldn't have stopped touching him if she'd had a gun to her head. Darcy pressed her lips to his clavicle and let herself drift down his chest, licking and nipping along the way. His nipple pebbled in her mouth and she heard him gasp, and his hands buried themselves in her hair. 

She didn't particularly enjoy having her hair pulled, not generally, but Loki seemed to have a knack of not yanking. The gently increasing pressure just edged into pain, and she could suddenly feel just how wet she'd gotten. He was just so perfect - all angles and hard lines that begged to be caressed. His pants were by some miracle the drawstring kind, so it was easy to shove them down. He hadn't worn underwear.

It was different to be faced with his erection than it was to have it rubbing against her. His cock wasn't the biggest, most massive one she'd ever seen, but it was aesthetically pleasing: curving upwards and bobbing almost happily after she'd freed it. Darcy licked her lips before taking him into her mouth. Oral sex was something she was good at, and she took the opportunity to show off a little; letting her tongue roll and twist under and around his cock. In minutes, he squirmed and gasped, which was wonderfully gratifying. It was over all to soon, though, and he tugged her hair none too gently before coming on her neck and chest. 

Darcy watched his face as he emptied himself, enjoying that look, that expression of near pain with his eyes clenched shut as he shuddered. When he looked at her again, she dipped her fingers into the slickness he'd left, and licked them clean. He tasted pretty much like any other man she'd done this to, which she'd wondered about during those fantasies she'd tried not to have. 

The expression on Loki's face was one of near adulation, as if he couldn't believe his good fortune. Darcy revelled in it, especially when he pushed her over onto her back so Loki could get her own pants off. No longer would she wonder why he was called Silver Tongue, because he did things to her that made her see stars and clench her fingers into his hair. She came all over his seeking, clever digits almost embarrassingly quickly, but it didn't ease the pit of hunger that had grown inside her stomach. 

She wanted to fuck him with a desperation that was almost painful, especially when he looked up at her from between her legs with his mouth wet and curling into a grin, but she hadn't come prepared for this. When Darcy had packed for this vacation, she hadn't brought condoms, because why should she? It was only supposed to have been Jane and Thor, and even if they had told her that Loki was joining them, she never would have imagined a scenario where she'd have his tongue trailing along her labia, driving her to distraction. At least, not outside those fantasies she'd tried not to give into. 

Still, this was Tony Stark's place, so surely there must be some sort of protection lying around. Darcy had to clear her throat a few times before she could manage to ask JARVIS if there were any conveniently located condoms, resolutely ignoring the fact that her voice shook and came out in a whine, as Loki had apparently taken it upon himself to make her come again as quickly as possible. 

JARVIS's voice was completely neutral as he advised her that there was a selection available in the nightstand. Darcy had the absurd urge to thank Tony Stark, for once. 

Eager to climb on top of Loki and make him beg for mercy, Darcy shoved his head out from between her legs, and dove for the drawer. Without looking, she snagged the first foil packet she grabbed, and started laughing when she noticed that it was an Iron Man branded condom. The expression on Loki's face was priceless when he took the condom from her, which of course made Darcy laugh even harder.

Darcy had almost managed to get herself under control again when Loki tapped her shoulder a few moments later. He'd gotten the condom on his still impressive erection, which she gave him full props for, considering some men tended to lose structural integrity when faced with Darcy losing her entire shit in bed. He struck a pose, and that's when she noticed that the condom itself was likewise branded. 

Loki's penis was now a pretty decent facsimile of Iron Man. 

Darcy promptly lost it again, and she fell across the bed with tears streaming down her face.

"Sorry, I'm so sorry," she gasped, when she finally managed to catch her breath. 

Loki just grinned at her and stroked her cheek. 

Any lingering doubts she had about him melted. 

She threw her arms around him and kissed him, trying to put everything she felt right then - joy and lust and affection - into it. They rolled across the bed, a tangle of limbs, and when she was finally on top, she straddled him and took him inside. Loki felt every bit as good as she'd imagined, and he must've thought something similar, if his gobsmacked expression was anything to go by. 

Loki let his hands drift up to Darcy's breasts, stroking her nipples while she rocked and moved over him. Darcy threw her head back, arching her chest forward, savoring the sensations and the power she felt in that position. When he shifted his attentions downwards and delicately caressed her clit, she came unexpectedly, while Loki watched with something like rapturous wonder. 

Her thighs were aching, so no matter how much she wanted to keep going until he finished too, Darcy couldn't seem to manage it. It wasn't a problem for Loki, who in a smooth move he'd likely had quite a bit of practice doing, rolled them over. Darcy crossed her legs behind his back, relishing the way Loki took control and fucked her. His mouth opened in a silent scream when he came. 

Later, after they'd disentangled, and the condom was disposed of, Darcy patted the bed. She was breaking one of her cardinal rules, but she didn't care. 

"Stay," she said.

And he did. 

* * *

Darcy woke up, suddenly and completely.

Something was tickling her back, and she rolled over, ready to curse Jane for waking her. 

Loki grinned at her, his hair sticking up in all directions, looking completely luscious. Darcy smiled back, surprised when he signed, _Good morning, D A R C Y._

Full of an emotion she dared not examine too closely and much preferred not to identify, she taught him how her family signed her name, and how to sign his own.

He learned both quickly.

Months later, while on a vacation that didn't involve almost dying in the snow, his hands moved gracefully as he carefully signed, _I love you, Darcy._

And she wasn't scared at all to tell him she loved him, too. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm actually quite proud that this is done. 
> 
> That said, I probably wouldn't have actually done the thing if it wasn't for y'all, so, you know... thanks so much for being exceptional.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


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